Thank you so much for reading and going on this lil' adventure with me. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I *may* post outtakes, but I'm very unsure of when that will be. If I do, it will still be in this story. JSYK.

- Raggdolly

C.7
Poisoned Devils

| . . . : . . . |

Bella leaned back in the metal chair as she sniffled silently. Her tears found her once again as she concluded her story.

Chief Hale pulled a tissue from the Kleenex box, which sat on the edge of the table next to him, and offered it to her. She took it gently, her hands shaking, then blotted away the tears and mucus from her soiled face. She took up a Styrofoam cup in front of her and finished the last sip of water, barely able to swallow it.

Hale lit his third cigarette. The smoke curled wildly in the air. "So... that's it?"

Bella nodded.

He nodded in return then sat forward, leaning on the table. "And... the car outside; who does it belong to?"

"We took it from his house. It's his." Her voice wavered.

"I see. Miss Swan, listen. I have no doubt that something happened, but in order to understand the entire story, I must ask you… before the incident occurred… had you or your friends been drinking, or using drugs of any kind?"

She shook her head and stared at the table, as if she were trying to remember. "We drank a few beers the first night we were out there, but that's all."

"How many did you have?"

"I don't remember."

"And do you drink often?"

"Occasionally."

Jasper scribbled onto his notepad.

Bella's eyes narrowed in confusion then she shook her head lightly, balling her hands into fists. Her words were angry. "I'm not lying, and I wasn't seeing things! I wasn't drunk!"

He looked up, his shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. "I'm not doubting that something happened, ma'am. I am, however, doubting what it is you claim has taken the life of three of your friends."

"Why would I lie about that?"

"I don't know," he said. "That's why I'm trying to get the whole story."

"I told you everything." She was defeated, tired.

The Chief sighed as Bella hung her head, cradling her forehead in the palms of her hands. Her whole body began to shake as she convulsed into tears once again. She was clearly distraught. Something was not right about this situation.

There was something that she was not telling, or something that he was missing. She wasn't in her right mind. "Excuse us for a minute, Miss Swan," he said rising out of his chair. He smothered his cigarette into the ash tray then made for the door. Demetri followed closely behind him.

They left Bella in the room alone to cry.

Jasper stared at the floor, confused.

"I don't believe her," Demetri said finally.

"Yeah. Something's off," Jasper responded, agreeing with him.

"We need to talk to the other girl. Now."

"I know."

"What hospital was she taken to?"

"Habersham."

"Let's go now. I'll drive," Demetri said.

"We can't just leave her here. She's not in the condition to be alone."

"What do you expect us to do? She's obviously lying about something." Demetri huffed and rolled his eyes. "We actually do real detective work at the GBI, Chief. Now, I know that's not something that you're used to, but it's how we get answers. It's how things get done. I'll drive." With a quick turn of his heel he made towards the front door.

Jasper silently cursed at the universe for sending him the most insensitive bastard he had ever met as he stepped slowly to the front desk, where a lovely, middle-aged woman was sitting. She adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and lifted a paper closer to her face.

"Mrs. Cope?"

"Yes, Chief Hale?" she asked, placing the paper back on the desk with a slight grin.

"Detective Demetri and I are going to the hospital to question the other girl that came in with Miss Swan this morning. Will you please sit with her until her father gets here? I don't want her to be left alone right now."

"Yes, sir," Mrs. Cope said. She rose out of her seat and tugged on the hem of her shirt.

He pulled a small, plastic cup from the desk and held it out as the woman passed. "Give her some more water, too, please?"

"Of course."

Just as Jasper turned from the front desk to the front lobby doors Mrs. Cope spoke again, urgently. "Oh, Chief Hale! The information you requested came in a few minutes ago. It's on the desk. I didn't want to disturb you."

"It's fine. Thank you."

The paper with furious black ink was easily spotted; an unmistakeable fax with fresh smudges extending the letters slightly.

Make: ...Mercedes

Model: ...CL63 AMG

Year: ...2009

VIN: ...SNST6387U91228148

Current Owner: ...Jameson Jenks

Previous Owners: ...N/A

Address: ...344 Delphic Court, Macon GA

The information was scarce but told enough to cause Jasper's thoughts to spin. Another lead, or suspect. Who was Jameson Jenks, and why was his car outside the station, driven by Bella, if he lived over three hours away from Helen? Was it stolen? Questions began to collect in Jasper's mind as he left the building and climbed into the black SUV that waited in the parking lot.

"You'll have to give me directions," Demetri said.

"Turn right out of here and follow this road to the Unicoi Turnpike."

"I don't know where the fuck that is." His tone was aggressive.

"I'll let you know when to turn," Jasper responded, keeping his voice calm.

"So, do you believe her?"

"I believe that something happened to them in the woods, but it wasn't a goddamn vampire, that's for sure." Jasper stared out the window in concentration. He was sure that someone or something had assaulted Miss Swan and her friends while they were camping. Her soiled clothes and broken psyche told him that. "It could have been anything," he added.

The ride was quiet. Neither men knew what to say as they rode the twenty-five minutes to Habersham County Hospital.

When they arrived Demetri and Jasper flashed their badges then asked to see Miss Stanley.

"Has she said anything," Demetri asked tucking his GBI identification into his inner jacket pocket.

The blond nurse hung her head slightly, distressed. "She's been upsetting the ER patients all morning. We had to give her something to calm her down."

"Has—she—said—anything?" Demetri asked again, but slower and louder as if the nurse didn't understand the question the first time.

She cringed slightly, taken back by his attitude. "Nothing that we can understand."

"What do you mean?" Jasper asked.

"She was screaming," she said, "and mumbling about someone. We couldn't get her to calm down so we could take the bullet out of her shoulder, so we gave her a sedative. She's doing okay now, but she's in and out of sleep."

"We need to speak with her," Demetri said with urgency.

She agreed and led them through the ER into a small room where a girl was lying still under the stiff, hospital-grade sheets.

"When the paramedics brought her in this morning she was covered in blood."

"I heard earlier from a third-shift officer that she looked bad off but not critical," Jasper said quietly. "Single gun-shot wound to the right shoulder?"

"Yes," the nurse confirmed. "If there is anything else I can help you with, let me know."

The nurse backed out of the room and left, but not before adding, "She may not talk much."

The sound of the door shutting against the frame was loud, probably louder than the woman had intended. The sound caused Jessica to flinch and roll her head on the pillow.

Jasper approached the bed slowly. "Jessica? Jessica Stanley?"

She seemed to acknowledge that her name was being called. Her lids parted slowly, revealing her bloodshot eyes. She looked as if she hadn't slept in a couple of days.

"Miss Stanley, I'm Chief Jasper Hale with the Helen Police Department, and this is Detective Demetri Webb with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. How are you feeling?"

She made eye contact with him then it slipped. She closed her eyes. "Oh," she said softly, "Hi."

Jasper cleared his throat. "Miss Stanley, I know this isn't the best time but we need to ask you a few questions about what happened to you last night, early this morning. Do you recall anything right now?"

Jessica swallowed harshly and furrowed her brow. "Someone… shot me."

"Do you remember who it was? Who shot you?"

"It… happened too quickly…" Jessica's voice was fading, sleep was taking her again.

Demetri stepped to her. "Did your friend, Bella, shoot you?"

Jasper looked to him quickly with wide eyes. How could he insinuate something such as that?

"She… picked up the gun… the noise was so loud. It… happened so fast."

Jessica nodded off again, completely surrendering to the powerful medication.

"That's why her story sounded like complete and utter bullshit," Demetri said quietly but aggravated. "She's trying to cover up shooting her friend."

Jasper shook his head. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"That girl is trying to cover up something she did with a real incident that has been going on for months! Don't you see that?"

"I'm not ignoring it. I'm simply saying don't jump to conclusions. We don't know what happened."

"You are being foolish!"

"I'm not the one being foolish," Jasper retorted, offended. "If I had known that Miss Stanley had been medicated we wouldn't have come here, but the truth is that she was, and clearly still is. Her head isn't on straight. We'll have to question her when she's feeling better. When she no longer needs the medication." Jasper paused, thinking over Bella's story.

"She said that she shot the gun while inside the house. We'll get the directions and we can go question the owners."

"If she even 'remembers' where this place is," Demetri said.

"If she doesn't then we'll find the campsite. She should, at least, remember where that is. The evidence we will find will tell the truth."

|...:...|

When they arrived back at the police station, Bella's father was sitting with her in the small room but was asked to leave.

He exited the room and turned to Chief Hale and Detective Demetri.

"I'm Chief Jasper Hale, and this is Detective Demetri Webb from the GBI."

"Charlie Swan," he said. "I'm the police chief at Kennesaw PD. Can you tell me what's going on?" He placed his hands on his hips after releasing a worried breath. For the first time in his life, he was speechless; speechless for his own daughter. His tired eyes couldn't process what he had seen in there. She didn't speak much but he was still trying to make sense of it all. What could have happened to her?

"We're unsure as of right now, sir. We're still trying to find all the answers, ourselves," Jasper said.

"She needs a doctor," Charlie said. "I mean, she's cut up, and bruised, caked with mud! I've never seen anything like that. Not even when she was a little girl."

"She refused medical treatment when the paramedics arrived this morning to take Miss Stanley to the hospital."

"What happened to Jessica?"

"She was shot in the right shoulder. She's recovering, she'll be okay," Demetri answered, making quick work of it.

"I—I don't understand," Charlie said.

"Nothing is set in stone," Chief Hale offered, trying to calm the man in front of him. "But we're going to hold your daughter here for the time being. You're more than welcome to sit here, and wait with her."

The lines on Charlie's face suggested that he was bewildered and distraught with confusion, but Jasper knew that nothing more could be done for the time being. The Old Chief would understand procedure, even if it was his daughter.

They excused themselves and entered into the room once again, taking a seat in front of Bella. She leaned on her folded arms in her lap that were pressed against her stomach, swaying gently back and forth.

"Miss Swan?"

She didn't respond.

"Miss Swan?"

She blinked several times then met Jasper's inquisitive gaze.

"You said earlier that you were at a house?"

She nodded.

He folded his hands on the table. "Do you have an address?"

She shook her head, No.

"Do you remember how to get there?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"We're going to need you to tell us. Could you do that?"

"Yes."

She told them everything they wanted to know, and more. She recalled how many stories the manor had, and described the color of the brick. But most importantly, "You'll see a wall," she said as tears welled on her bottom lid at mention of her outdoor prison. "A big, brick wall, and the house sits back off the road a ways. But you'll know you're there when you see the wall."

Jasper wrote it down on his notepad and thanked her. "We're going to keep you here for a while. When we get back we'll decide on what to do from there."

She gave a final, silent nod but he wasn't sure that she really comprehended what he had said.

Just as he was rising from his chair she spoke again. "How is Jessica?"

Jasper stopped mid-bend at her question but finished straightening after the momentary pause. "She's fine. She's gonna be just fine."

|...:...|

As Demetri drove over the windy roads, Jasper read the directions. The sudden maneuvers and the leathery scent made him sick to his stomach. This country-side was thick, and less-populated; the lining of the trees never lit-up, even when they reached their destination.

The hidden-drive seemed to appear out of nowhere, causing Demetri to slam on his brakes; the patrol car behind him nearly rear-ending his shiny, black SUV.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Jasper breathed as he braced himself against the dash and the door. He felt his heart accelerating as the car nearly stopped in the middle of the street.

"Is this it?" Demetri asked as he rotated the wheel. The car jerked onto the gravel, bouncing the frame roughly.

"I don't know. We'll find out," Jasper responded as he ducked his head under the windshield. A canopy of trees hovered above them; the trunks were walled against the drive that seemed never-ending, as if the road led nowhere.

"I… don't know… if this is it," Demetri said. Nervousness paced his voice.

"Just… keep going," Jasper responded as he squinted harder into the trees. An odd shape took form against the vertical view; a quick flash of something indistinguishable. "I think I see something ahead."

"I don't see anything."

As the car rounded the narrow passage-way the trees began to thin as if layers being peeled away to unveil a bright, shining light ahead of them.

Two bricked walls on either side of the drive greeted them as they came out of the trees and into the clearing.

The manor was as Bella said it would be. Darkened windows were strung in the bricks, a single tower reached to the sky, and there was the wall she spoke so anxiously about.

Demetri pulled around the circular drive and stopped in front of the house, the patrol car behind him followed.

"Goddamn," Demetri muttered in disbelief.

Jasper exited the car and stepped up to the door of the mansion. It was like any other door he had ever seen, but dread lit his stomach on fire and caused him to shy away for a moment before picking up the lion-head door knocker and sending echoes of banging into the house.

The scent of freshly burned wood, smoke and sweetness, filled the air and only increased when he stepped closer to the house to peer into the blank window next to the entry, looking for any movement or signs of life.

"It looks abandoned," Jasper said. "There's stuff inside, but it's completely covered in dust and cobwebs."

Demetri picked up the door knocker and slammed it into the door.

They were quiet but no rustling sounded from inside the house, and no one came to greet them.

"I'm going to go around back," Jasper said then stepped away from the other two. "Keep trying this door."

Demetri pounded with his fist as Jasper walked around the large circumference of the structure.

He squinted in confusion when he rounded corner. The two structures – manor and wall – met cleanly. There was no entrance to the back, no break in the solid mass. It was only brick and sky. He didn't quite understand the purpose of this, or why the wall would be so high.

And it was brief that he thought maybe Miss Swan was telling the truth. She had said the wall was a guarantee that she, or anyone else, could never escape from the back yard.

The longer he stood at that wall, the longer his mind began to wrap around the idea that this was the home of a murderer. It may not be a vampire, because that notion was ridiculous, but something sinister and inhumane resided inside the walls.

However, the theory didn't fit the appearance; the outside appeared well manicured. The grass was low-cut and a most brilliant shade of green, flowers were growing in patches with fresh pine straw between them, and the fragrance of honeysuckles were in the air, growing not far from where he stood. The property, itself, was lovely.

He anchored the sole of his boot into the soft grass and turned, chewing on the inside of his cheek in contemplation. To anyone else the outer beauty of such a marvelous place would fool them into thinking that whomever lived here was of good taste, perhaps snobbish, but normal. Some people wouldn't think secondly of the massive obstruction blocking their view to more of the property.

Because some people are easily fooled.

But Jasper knew, quite well, that appearances could be deceiving.

"There's no one home," Officer Rowley said from the front doorstep as Jasper appeared back in sight.

"This place is dead," Demetri added.

"Watch out," Jasper said, backing them away and grabbed the door handle to twist it.

It was locked. It didn't surprise him. He pulled the gun from the holster and aimed where the door and frame met. He squeezed the trigger. The lock that held the two together exploded. The door swung open forcefully.

"You can't do that!" Demetri exclaimed.

"If it's abandoned then what does it matter?" Jasper grinned wryly then stepped inside the house slowly, still holding his gun, ready for anything that would come out at them. The smoky odor that disturbed him outside was stronger in here, upsetting the musky, old smell that the manor took on underneath. Even the atmosphere seemed gray. It reminded him of the house fires he would be called to as an officer, when the smoke would linger just below the ceiling of the house - if there was a house left standing.

"Hello?" he hollered into the large halls. "Anybody home? This is Chief Hale and Officer Rowley with the Helen Police Department, and Detective Demetri Webb from the GBI."

His boots crunched over the shards of wood. "We're not here to hurt you," he continued. "We just want to ask you a few questions… anybody home?"

Only his echo answered him.

"I'm going to head to the back. You two search the rooms. See if you can find anything. Holler if you do," Jasper said.

"Right," Demetri said in an awestruck voice as his eyes ascended up the walls, admiring the architecture and various things of interest.

The house did appear to be abandoned. Dirt and dust were on every surface, nearly making the items gray and monotone. Not one thing stood out from the other in color except for the paintings strewn across the expanse of the walls, but even they were alike. A deep, heavy red was the highlight of every picture, the only common ingredient that tied all of them together.

As he glanced down the hall, the color bounded from the paintings and for a moment he thought of it as blood running through a dusty vein.

A familiar scent hit his nostrils then and stung his entire body with recognition, a memory. A fresh, more vivid memory. Something he'd smelled before. Reflections of daylight lit the way as his pace picked up. He was near the back of the house when the scent became heavier, more abrupt, drowning out the charred until it was prominent and undeniable. He could only describe it as abandoned life, rot, and decay.

Death.

He turned at a dead end, following the light and saw a wall of bright windows.

The white, shining room nearly blinded him as he entered. He nearly gagged at the odor that radiated as he glanced around.

His breath caught in his chest. He coughed.

Drops of red littered the floor around the furniture.

The couch cushions were slathered in the color.

Blood.

But whose?

Just as he reached for his cell phone to call for additional back-up, a gunshot exploded around the halls.

"Detective? Officer Rowley?" he yelled as loud as he could then raced out of the blood-soaked room.

His steps led him back to the front, and then down halls he had not yet seen. He held his gun in front of him as he peaked into each of the rooms he encountered. The smell began to change again.

"Detective?" he called as he slowed. "Where are you? Officer Rowley?"

Inside a room to his left, through a cracked door, a shadow shifted on a wall.

Jasper pointed his gun to the door and slowly pushed it open. The destroyed room was littered with books, the old chairs were pushed oddly around the bookcases, and glass jars on the shelves gleamed. Confusion filled his body, then, at the sight before him, horror washed it all away.

A single man stood across the space, his hands clutching the curtains as he pulled them together, filtering the only light that came into the room. Demetri and Officer Rowley were strewn out on the floor; one against the left bookcase, the other in the middle. Another body, one that he didn't recognize, was on the couch, only it wasn't as quiet. It convulsed.

"Forgive me," the man said, "my eye is sensitive to the bright light."

Jasper aimed his weapon at the back of the man. "What did you do to these men?"

"It's what they did to themselves."

He aimed the gun more pointedly and the words, what did you do?, escaped from between his bared teeth.

"The Detective came in, became curious and decided to open the curtains for a bit more light. Like I said, my eye is sensitive, so I fixed the problem. I may have startled him." The man's voice was calm, cryptic, and strangely snake-like.

"Don't worry," he continued, "they're not dead, merely unconscious."

"And what about him?" Jasper said as his eyes fell on the shaking man on the couch.

"Oh, him?" The man knew who he was talking about. "You don't need to worry about him." He dropped his hands from the curtains and turned to Jasper.

His right-eye seemed to glow in the surrounding darkness, taking in the little light that was available and emitting it back into the void. His other eye was shut off to the world by a patch that strapped around his head.

Somewhere in the room, an old ticking clock counted the seconds that passed between the two men.

There was something unusual about this one-eyed man, a strange vibe that he expelled, telling Jasper he was in danger.

"You are in no danger," the man said, as if confirming. "I do not wish to kill you. In fact, it would be counter-productive since you have information that I need."

A strange scream was hurled from the man on the couch as his massive body twitched and convulsed violently. His motions were that of possession, as if a demon had embodied him and moved his limbs unnaturally.

It didn't bother this one-eyed thing in front of him the way it did Jasper. Why had he just thought of this man as a thing? And what was his name?

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing."

"The hell there is! He needs medical treatment!"

The thing chuckled. "Everything that can be done is being done… I assure you sir that if you step towards him, I will not spare your life after I have gotten what I want!" He pointed a finger at him. His voice was loud and full of warning.

Jasper stepped back one step to where he was before he had moved. His motion was so slight, how could he have known what he was doing?

"You will not touch him!" he said again then bent down slightly over the back of the couch and touched the head of the sick man. "He is my most prized possession," he whispered softly. "My protege."

He was mad!

Daft!

Jasper wanted to reason with him since he was clearly out of his mind, and not thinking straight. "Sir, he needs medical attention. Let me call someone and we can have an ambulance out here in ten minutes."

He continued, as if he had not heard what Jasper had said, or completely ignoring it all-together. "He will be so sensitive to the light, more-so than me. But that is my own fault. He needs to stay in the dark until the change is complete. It will take no more than a few days. Do you understand?"

Jasper's chest heaved with panic. He didn't understand, why was he telling him this? Was he even real?

"After all," the man said and straightened up to look at Jasper with his single, glowing eye. "It's a long way to hell and back, and the trip is already painful enough."

Get out! The voice inside his head screamed, his every instinct told him to run!

The sound of whipping wind followed by the slam of the door sounded before he could turn on his heel to escape.

The thing was there! He pressed his back into the closed door, blocking his only exit.

"You have something that I want," it said, glaring.

"I don't have anything that you want!" Jasper protested, and pushed his gun towards him again. He wanted to shoot him. There was no other way out. He wasn't Chief Hale anymore! In that moment he was simply Jasper. The law didn't mean anything. Life did. Survival did.

His Glock was knocked from his grasp. A loud snap crippled him in pain as he fell onto the books he had been trying to avoid. It was there! It held onto his broken wrist like a puppet master controlling a new toy.

"I've been shot at enough for a day," the thing said said.

Jasper screamed out as his hand was pulled on. He felt the skin was the only thing keeping it together now, and he desperately hoped it would hold. He managed to choke out, "I don't have anything!"

"Oh, yes, you do. Do you see this?" He lifted the black eye-patch and put it right in Jasper's face. His eye was destroyed, his socket dark and barren, nothing but a gaping, charred hole.

Jasper squeezed his eyes shut, the sight caused his wrist to throb even more and pulse in severe agony.

"Look at it!" he screamed into his face. "Do you see what she did to me? Do you?" His thick, trebled voice disturbed the contents of the room, seeming to vibrate books and rattle bones. His teeth gleamed as his lips pulled away from each other as he snarled.

Jasper looked into the monstrosity of flesh and bone where his eyeball used to reside. "That bitch took my eye! She destroyed it!" he seethed. "So I'm going to take her head."

But he didn't understand. He didn't understand anything but the pain as his shattered bones ground together. They were squeezed once again. He cried out.

"You do know what I'm talking about. She was here, and so were her friends. Everything she told you was the truth… Bella Swan."

The mention of her name swirled the recent events in his head. He thought of Miss Swan and where she was, where she would be. He saw her sitting in that room with her father, but the images quickly fleeted as his wrist was flung to the floor. Instinctively, he reached for it, to cradle it against his body but weight was applied to it. It cracked under a black shoe as the thing leaned down to the Chief, who was now sprawled across the floor next to Demetri.

"Thank you," he said and adjusted his eye-patch, then rested his elbows upon his bended knees. "We're going to be holed up in here for a few days. I may need your assistance, Chief. And if you don't cooperate, Detective Webb and Officer Rowley over there will die horrible deaths. Slow, agonizing deaths."

Jasper wondered, through the torture, what he meant by horrible, slow, and agonizing, to which the man responded with a grin, "The worst kind you can imagine."

He then dug through Jasper's pockets and pulled out his cell phone, crushing the hard plastic with one grip. "You won't be needing that anymore." He tossed it over his shoulder.

He pulled out the badge and held it up then with a wider smile than before said, "Wear that at all times." He placed it on Jasper's chest.

"Let's see, what else don't you need?" he asked himself. He hummed deeply in his chest as he thought while running a sharp fingernail over the brim of the Chief's ear lobe. Jasper flinched, preparing himself to feel more pain.

"No," he whispered. His cool breath smelled of metal, almost sweet. "I'll let you keep those."

The fingernail continued to grind against the flesh as it made its way to Jasper's lips. A hand encased his cheeks, puckering his lips, and opening his mouth slightly. He huffed and drew in sharp breaths. The pain in his wrist twisted into more agony as the man bore more weight onto it with the thick sole of his shoe. He straddled him, his other foot holding down his other arm now as he sat on his torso.

"But this," he hissed as he draped over him, their lips nearly touching. "It's bad enough I'll have to hear your thoughts much less listen to you speak them." The man slid something thin out of his pocket. A click and metal ringing moved Jasper roughly.

He saw it gleam in the light as he laid there on the library floor. He tried to escape, but the pain and the weight held him in place. There was no escaping. He braced for what would happen, he knew it would hurt, but he didn't know it would be so much. The small blade pierced his tongue and slipped into the flesh easily. A few quick motions – and screams – later, the man pulled the muscle from his mouth and dangled it in front of him.

The house filled with his strange cries. They sounded muffled, then, since they didn't roll off the tip of his tongue. He screamed until it no longer sounded human; until the noises were mere whimpers.

The man licked his fingertips clean of the little bit of blood that had leaked onto him before pulling a book off the table.

"If you know time as well as I do, you won't want to waste it. Here. You might want to catch up on your reading. If I were you, I'd start with this one." He dropped a book onto Jasper's heaving chest. The faded gold-lettering hinting at what was once there.

Dracula.

"And my name, since you asked earlier, is Edward Cullen, and I am very real."

He left Jasper on the floor to writhe. His noises of pain and disbelief flooded into the halls of the house once he opened the door of his library. A small piece of contentment filled Edward as he shadowed the halls of his manor. The motion to clean up what had been split was underway, but there was unfinished business which needed to be ratified as soon as Emmett had completed his change. Too many people had heard of Miss Swan's tale; a brush with the undead. Some may have thought she was crazy, others may have wanted to believe it. But all that heard of the game would line the walls with blood. He would paint his house red.

After all, she had taken more than his eye.

She had taken the game away from him.

She had taken his pride.

And she would pay.

She would pay with tears and blood. She would still pay with her precious time; the time she loved so much.

He would drink from her last.

He smiled to himself as he rounded the corner, the light from the open front door lingered on every surface. He began to whistle.

Then, something emerged from the back of his mind; words that he had spoken before. They escaped in soft wisps before he could decide not to say them. "The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day. I attended all the ghastly formalities, and the urbane undertaker proved that his staff was afflicted."

A sneer stretched across his face, as if he knew what he was saying now and the purpose to which he was saying it. "Even the woman who performed the last offices for the dead remarked to me when she had come out from the death chamber. She makes a very beautiful corpse, sir. It's quite a privilege to attend on her."

As he reached the open entrance of his secluded manor his eye squinted against the painful afternoon sunlight. He placed a thin, pale hand on the dark, wooden door and it groaned on its hinges as he began to close it, shutting himself into the dark.

"It's not too much to say that she will do credit to our establishment."

"The End"

. . .

-Songs, just because.-

Breathe by The Prodigy

Vampire by People in Planes

The Game by Disturbed

. . . . .

The last few lines, Edward was quoting material from Dracula. I'll leave it up to you for interpretation.

Thank you for reading!

=)